"And I 'm the one to place and classify. I want to prove that I did n't work five years in the New York Library for nothing." I stayed with Cale while he was gathering up the books.
"I cal'late you was paid a good price fer handlin' other folks' brains." Cale spoke tentatively, and I humored him; I like to give news of myself piece-meal.
"Of course, I did, Cale; I had nine dollars a week."
"Hm—pretty small wages fer a treadmill like thet!" He spoke almost scornfully.
"Oh, that was better than I had in the beginning. What would you say to four dollars a week, Cale?"
"With room and keep?"
"Not a bit of it; board and room and clothes had to come out of that."
"Hm—". He looked at me keenly, but made no reply. "You tend ter putting 'em on the shelves, an' I 'll take 'em all in. 'T ain't fit work fer women, all such liftin'; books has heft, if what's in 'em is pretty light weight sometimes."
"What would you say about the owner of all these books, Cale? Let's guess what he 's like," I said, laughing, as I lingered to hear what he would say. But he was non-committal.
"I could n't guess fer I ain't seen the insides. I 'm glad he 's coming, though; I want ter get down to some real work 'fore long. Wal, we 'll see what he 's like in two days now. Pete an' I have got to drive over ter Richelieu-en-Haut—durn me, if I can see why they don't call it Upper Richelieu!—an' meet the Quebec express."